For the last day of poetry month, something I love from Czeslaw Milosz about how it felt for him to write the stuff.
Secretaries I am no more than a secretary of the invisible thing That is dictated to me and a few others. Secretaries, mutually unknown, we walk the earth Without much comprehension. Beginning a phrase in the middle Or ending it with a comma. And how it all looks when completed Is not up to us to inquire, we won't read it anyway.
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WhoErin Bedford, writer. What
All
When
July 2018
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